


Homecoming

by stjarna



Series: Home is where our story begins [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bus Kids - Freeform, Family, Friendship, Gen, Sequel, chosen family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 11:11:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8283815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: A sequel to Housewarming. Fitzsimmons live in their new apartment. An unexpected visitor needs their help.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agentcalliope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentcalliope/gifts).



> Thanks to the wonderful dilkirani for the beta!
> 
> This fic was in part inspired by the sneak peek (you the one I'm talking about).

He doesn’t know what exactly woke him, but his mouth is dry so he figures he might as well get up. Quietly, he pulls back the covers so as not to wake her.

Sleepily, he scuffles into the kitchen. The full moon shines through the window. He doesn’t bother to turn on the lights. His eyes half-closed, he opens the cabinet, grabs a glass, and turns on the faucet to fill it. He shuts the water off and turns around to drink, leaning against the kitchen counter.

A weak “Fitz” from the living room area startles him, making him drop his glass, which shatters on the floor.

He looks to where the noise came from and sees a dark figure lying on the floor.

He rushes over. She looks terrible, lying in a small puddle of blood, her eyes fluttering, barely conscious.

“Daisy,” he mumbles in shock.

The lights turn on.

“Fitz?” He hears Jemma’s sleepy voice but can’t take his eyes off Daisy.

“Is everything… Oh God!” Jemma exclaims and rushes to them, falling to her knees next to Daisy.

“Daisy?” Jemma’s hands glide over Daisy’s pale face. Gently, she touches the bruised and broken arm.

“Help me,” Jemma whispers, and Fitz knows exactly what she needs.

Carefully, working in unison, no need for words, they roll Daisy slightly to one side to investigate the source of the blood.

“Gunshot wound,” Fitz mutters, when they notice the small bullet hole in Daisy’s leather jacket, blood seeping out. Jemma nods.

Slowly, they roll her onto her back. The painful, weak groan emanating from what used to be a force of nature sends shivers down Fitz’s spine.

“Daisy, what happened?” Jemma asks, gently stroking their friend’s cheek.

“Sorry, I had nowhere else to turn,” Daisy replies, barely above a whisper before her eyes roll back and close shut.

Intuitively, Fitz reaches for her neck. He nods at Jemma in relief when he feels a weak but steady pulse.

Jemma’s eyes dart from left to right. He can tell that she’s rattling her brain to find a solution.

“Radcliffe,” she finally mutters. “He has the necessary medical equipment to treat her injuries… in private.”

Fitz looks down at their friend, barely hanging on to life.

“I’ll get the car,” he says, scrambling to get up.

* * *

_The quinjet is floating in space, and so is she, so is Elena’s gold necklace, so is he, bleeding, broken, dying. She reaches for him, grabs his hand, pulls him closer. She cradles him in her arms. His face is pale, but a smile is lingering on his lips. They’re floating. Together. Dying. Together. As it should have been. He opens his mouth and she leans down to be able to hear him. “Go home, Daisy. I didn’t save the girl I love so she could destroy herself,” he whispers and his body disappears, dissolves into star dust. She screams._

* * *

_No_ , escapes her lips as her eyes fly open.

Disoriented, she looks around the room. In one corner, what feels like miles away, stand Fitz and Simmons, whispering quietly with each other, their backs to her bed. Her eyes keep wandering and land on her nightstand. Lincoln smiles at her from the photograph she has been carrying with her, his face slightly crinkled from being stuffed into her pocket for months. Tears shoot to her eyes at the sight. Once again she feels the pain. Sees the images. Relives her nightmare.

Then Daisy notices _her_. Lincoln’s photograph is propped up against her Hawaiian doll. Her eyes catch a glimpse of something else, lying flat on the nightstand in front of it. Slowly Daisy lifts her head to get a better look, pain in every muscle, every bone, every fiber of her body. Her tired mind can barely process the words, but she recognizes her own handwriting, remembers the note she had put into her housewarming present for Fitz and Simmons.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she hears Jemma’s stern voice, and her eyes glance over to see Fitz and Simmons strutting towards her bed.

“Head back on the pillow! You should move as little as possible. Do you have _any_ idea what a mess you’ve made of your body? Not to mention a bullet wound!”

Daisy rests her head back on the pillow, a weak smile flashing across her lips.

She tries to speak, but her mouth is dry. She clears her throat and a husky _Thank you_ escapes her lips.

Jemma’s expression changes. Her mouth twitches nervously and her eyes shimmer with tears. Fitz’s face mirrors hers. He reaches for Daisy’s hand and carefully squeezes it.

“I will get you some more pain meds.” Jemma’s voice is shaking as she speaks. “You need to rest.”

Daisy notices Jemma’s trembling hands and pain fills her chest at the thought of the pain she has caused them in the past few months.

Jemma turns around and heads out the door.

Daisy looks up at Fitz, who is still holding her hand. She remembers the anger and sadness she saw in his eyes, the last time they met. But that’s not how he’s looking at her now. His eyes are kind, comforting, supportive.

“Even now…” she whispers, blinking away tears.

Fitz leans closer to her. “What?”

“Even now you’re not turning your back on me?”

“You’re family,” he replies matter-of-factly, his free hand gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t have much of that growing up. More than you maybe, but still. I can’t just give up on the people I love. Especially not if they need me. We’re family, Daisy. And if one of us falls, the rest is there to pick them up. You forgive and move on.”

She exhales, trying to hold back her tears, but she’s too weak, too exhausted, too emotional to hold the dam. “I’m so sorry, Fitz,” she cries. “So sorry.”

“Sssshhh,” he comforts her. “You’re home now.”

She looks at him and sees the same man who held her the last time she grieved, the last time her world had been turned upside down. She had allowed him to comfort her then, to stand by her side, to help her through it. She tries to figure out why then and not now, and can’t find an answer.

The door opens and Jemma returns with a small bottle and injection needle.

“This should help with the pain… and allow you to rest some more,” she says as she prepares the injection.

“Wait,” Daisy pleads. “Do they know? The others?” she asks quietly.

“They should be here any minute,” Fitz replies.

Daisy nods.

“And,” Jemma adds nervously, “I’m afraid, since he would find out anyway thanks to his lovely lie detector regiment, I also felt it necessary to report this to Director Mace.”

Daisy exhales sharply.

“However,” Jemma continues, “he has left it up to _me_ to decide how to proceed due to the extent of your physical injuries.”

She swallows.

“You will not be detained. I have deemed you a no-flight risk.” Jemma pauses, her eyes shimmering glassy. “Please, don’t turn me into a liar.”

Tears start streaming down Daisy’s face. She bites her lower lip and weakly shakes her head.

“I don’t wanna run anymore,” she sobs.

“You don’t have to,” Fitz says quietly, stroking her hand.

“Please, let us help you,” Jemma wipes a tear from her cheek. “Let us finally help you.”

Daisy closes her eyes and nods.

She had missed them so much. Hated herself for pushing them away. But she had been hurting. Couldn't bear the pain of losing him. Couldn’t bear the thought of losing someone else. Wanted to detach herself from those she loved; to protect herself; to protect them. But she was too tired, too alone. She wanted them back. Needed them back.

Fitz’s head gestures to the Hawaiian doll. “She thinks it’s time you’ll take her back.”

“Except,” Jemma speaks up and exchanges looks with Fitz, “she really likes our apartment. So…”

“…you’ll have to come home with us,” Fitz finishes her sentence.

_Go home, Daisy. I didn’t save the girl I love so she could destroy herself._

She was done destroying herself. She was going home. With them. Her family.

_If one of us falls, the rest is there to pick them up._

She was ready. She would let them.

“Okay,” Daisy agrees. “Looked like a nice place.”

Jemma smiles widely. “It is,” she says, sighing happily.

Fitz is biting his lower lip. He lets go of her hand and scratches the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” he says. “We’ll have to clean up the mess you made, though… You owe us a glass.”

Daisy immediately regrets laughing out loud and instead winces in pain.

“Oh Fitz,” Jemma exclaims, slapping the back of her hand against his chest. “Don’t make her laugh. She needs to heal first.” And turning to Daisy, she adds, “Doctor’s orders!”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Daisy and Fitz say in unison, and Daisy can’t help but laugh again, laugh through the pain. The sight of her two best friends, her family, laughing with her makes it easier.


End file.
